


The Rise of Arc

by Exture



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF Jaune Arc, Blood, Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Faunus Yang Xiao Long, Fluff and Smut, Gore, M/M, Multi, Murder, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Rape, Slavery, Suicide, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exture/pseuds/Exture
Summary: Two wars shaped the face of Remnant. One that lead to mankind being the top of the top, and the second that caused mankind's downfall. The faunus that they bred into a surplus as slaver labor after the first war, began to sink their teeth and claws into their masters. Their charms causing them to ignore the rebellions occuring, lies of equality soon changed to insults and slavery for man. The faunus had risen to the top being as they said genetically superior and the next step for mankind, having two features that helped them be faster and stronger than humans.This will be the story of Jaune Arc, as he rises to the occasion, the last hope of mankind. His name is heir of Arc, the last king of man.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Blake Belladonna, Jaune Arc/Everyone, Jaune Arc/Original Female Character(s), Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos, Jaune Arc/Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	1. The Horizon that Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first rwby fanfic, idk where it will go from here but a friend gave me this idea, thanks to him I got outta a writer's block. But anyways this story will be dark not for the sake of angst but because these things did happen, and art reflects life as they say. Hope you all enjoy, please tell me what you think and if my grammar is off, I do hope to improve.

Jaune looked out into the sea. His hair was blown gently by the breeze of the waves. His cold blue eyes reflected the ocean's own sapphire glow. He was young and the ocean beckoned him, promising freedom. His eyes didn't move nor blink. A calm stillness came over him. A calm defeat as the cold of chains on his wrists and legs reminded him of what he was. 

The chains rattled slightly as several other men much older than he moved in their sleep. Most slept stomach down, as to avoid getting sand in their fresh wounds. Jaune had his own, carved with thick leather and heat of anger from the instructor. It was beyond common for him at this point. No matter how hard a slave would work they would be punished.

Jaune didn't flinch as the breeze changed direction onto his back. A pain stung as his skin flapped in the wind. But Jaune accepted it, no matter how hard the breeze pushed him towards freedom there was nothing out there for him. 

The rattling of chains got louder and more frequent as one by one the enslaved men rose from their sleep. Their faces all bruised and thin. Not one of them was lighter than the very dirt they walked on. Burnt from the sun their skin peeled for the sensitive ones, for others simply darkened. Turning another day older, another year older as well, being just old enough to hit puberty, hitting the second year of his teens. However it wasn't a celebration for him, for this time he'd be without his father. 

"Master Arc," an old man beckoned for Jaune's attention. The man had kind green eyes, that looked upon the young boy as if he were a young son. Jaune had known the man for most of his life. He was an old friend of his late parents. Like an uncle that wasn't blood related. He was always quieter than his father, but when he spoke he had as much authority as his.

"Yes, uncle Krim," Jaune rubbed his eyes to get the pesky dust and sand out of them. Krim wore nothing but shorts that barely had much fabric on them. His chains dug into his hands, scars could be seen of the constant friction. 

The old man yawned as an old man does, long and exaggerated. The young boy chuckled. "Sleep was rough wasn't it, sir, the chill came over the desert, surprised it didn't snow on us."

Jaune giggled. "At least the snow would have cooled our sores," he closed his eyes as he imagined, six years back when his father, a mere servant at that time in Vale, took the young boy outside. 

The pure white flakes falling from the heavens, hitting his young cheeks and turning his pale skin red, a coolness would come over the young boy as the small crystals fell onto him. Other human servant children played in the snow as well, the joy they all shared in the snow, back then they weren't free, but it was miles closer than where he is now. The snow was something that he always longed for as a child no matter how much the cold stung.

Now Jaune could only dream of cold snow flakes hitting his face, no longer pale but darkened through tanning. He felt like cattled, it's hide tanned for use, used and then disposed of.

"Ahh that would be a dream to have celebrated Christmas one more time," Krim closed his eyes as he imagined what the cold was like before. Jaune looked at his old friend and thought of a question on the topic of snow. 

"Uncle, when was the last time we had seen snow?" Krim opened his eyes as if to start to count. His mouth moving, as to help keep track.

"Um..um-uh, I think, maybe four years," Krim questioned himself, trying to hold up his fingers but they wouldn't move on their own any more, as if they became tools not for higher learning or assistance but for digging and working. Krim gave up. "I'm not sure, sir, we had moved from ship to ship for the past six or so years."

Jaune nodded to that answer. It was acceptable. Not that he'd complain, he himself barely remembered, working for the past four years in a desert, the slight cold only coming at night and never anything significant to warrant snow. Jaune began to pull himself to his feet.

The men began to all rise after sitting in a daze, some keeping their eyes closed just for a bit longer to get rest. The sun began to shine it's savage rays at them from the horizon. Teasing them as the day had begun. Their master was to arrive swiftly soon, no matter what he did the previous night, he'd always come and begin to observe his captured worker ants. 

The slaves began to stand up swiftly rising with the sun, as they saw their more than big gutted owner. He had the lavishes of food that only they could ever dare smell on him. Small hints of meat or even cursed vegetables that Jaune hated as a kid. His stomach couldn't even growl at this point, it just turned into a knot. 

The top slave, the one who most deemed a traitor of sorts, fell to his knees. "Master Zarraj, your lowly slave is ready for your command."

Jaune could feel the pity of others, calling him a traitor even though he sacrificed the most out of all of them. His pride as a man almost shriveled into nothing. The master gloated at his submissive servant. He had horns that hung and curled low to his ears, with different jewelry adorning them. A goat if Jaune had to guess. 

"Shitty animal, lick the sand off my shoe," he smiled cruelly. Only a sadistic joy from a man with too much power could have. The master motioned for another Faunes one with lizard-like skin, sand colors painted his scales. "Show these furless shits what they're doing today."

The instructor cracked a whip as he began to yell, each word ending with a hiss of hatred. The chains began to move and Jaune pulled with them. The sand was not yet hot, which comforted his feet. However, as the day goes on, each task gets tougher and more painful as the sand begins to burn. The years of slavery had taught Jaune was to avoid the hot sand. To step directly where the one in front had stepped, as well as stepping with the least amount of contact you can. 

Their long day began shortly after the whip cracked. Moving large lumber that would crush men on their own, boulders and stones to be placed into cement walls. The sun's heat began to increase its severity. Jaune working away at the boulder. The pick in his hands, his calluses peeling and bleeding. Gritting his teeth as he felt the splinters stab his open wound. Slowing down for a second to grip the pick tighter as to not let his hands push the calluses further. A painful turmoil, as if he used a different grip the already torn skin would be pulled and further pain inflicted. 

Slowing down, as to not pull the fresh flapping skin further across his hand. 

At that very moment thick leather slashed through the air with a scream. Snapping and opening Jaunes back. A bright crystal red liquid burst from the wound. He fell to his knees as his hand instinctively reached to cover his back. The instructor brought his hand back. He stood up on a mound of dirt, a ledge that looked over the construction work. He wasn't the only one, but he was the one with the most power. Other guards stood and watched to make sure none escaped or tried to retaliate. 

"You little sssshit never worksss when inssstructed!" The whip cracked the wind, aiming straight for Jaune's curled back. The whip however hit a different back. The old man of fifty if not more, took the lashing for the boy, his back opened like butter, hitting his thin muscles straight into his bone. He didn't flinch or make a noise, picking up the boy as the cracking leather blade sliced through him repeatedly. 

"No, Little Arc, don't slack, we got work to do, your-" he grunted loudly as he stood up and let the boy get back to work. Standing next to Jaune, picking up his pick and swinging it against the boulders that had been carried to them. "Your-ugh- father wouldn't want to see his son, ugh-be weak," the man continued as the instructor whipped him harder and faster. Krim didn't groan for the pain of the leather or let the whipping cause him to fail in his speech. But because of the weight of the child he picked up. 

"Little ssshit, how dare you protect him from hisss punishment! You repulsive heathen!" The lizard man hissed. His tongue flinging out further than intended. His hand swinging the whip in a circle before slicing the air and the old man's back. Relentless torture for thrill. 

"Sir, you've grown to be a hassle to carry," Krim smiled at Jaune, who couldn't see it but felt the smile in his voice. The beard and long hair that was unwashed for months if not years. The man kept swinging his pickaxe.

"I have not, I've simply sound my work unneeded here," Jaune joked as Krim scoffed softly. Shaking his head in a jolly disapproval.

"Sir, you have gotten lazy haven't you? Do you need me to use the pick for you too?"

"Hmm, that's not a bad idea, but doubt you could do that old Uncle," Jaune continued to take the situation lightly as he always has. Krim couldn’t scold him or tell him to not joke, for this was the only joy or semblance of joy he could enjoy. But deep down it hurt the young boy to see his only friend sacrifice his skin. The boy's joking smile soon faded from his lips, a sorrow filled frown was in its place.

Their day went on, the desert like sun beating down on their backs, blistering heat that made even the lizard who was born to live begin to seek shade. Their blood dried fast as the heat soldered their wounds. Jaunes eyes glazed over the old man's back. They now laid in the sand that they had awoken. Every day the blood stained the sand they laid on, soon they'd be punished for bleeding too much. It happened Jaune told himself. He continued to gently rub salt water into the crevices of the man's back. He didn't flinch nor groan, his eyes dulled as if he was not even there his body and soul separate. 

"Lord Arc, please it's my turn to care for you," the old man feeble turned around. He did as Jaune had done, tearing a piece of his pants made of thin potato sack. A single wooden bucket sat in between the slaves. The old man whispered for the men to carry the cloth around, to dip into the salt ocean water. The rag passed back, the old man focusing on the young boy. "How old are you now? Master?" The boy sat in silence, tears began to fall down his face. It hurt, it was unbearable. Not the whipping, it was tolerable at best. It was the pain he caused his only acquaintance. 

"W-why? Why," his lip quivered uncontrollably as they fell into his hands, burning the torn skin on his hands. The old man slowly and gently brushed the small back of the boy. The boys young skin peeled and torn, hung loosely to his back as the red liquid slowly slipped out of the thin slit that was caused by the coarse leather whip. 

"It was the war sir, we breed the faunes into a surplus after the first war. Under the leadership of the late Bull, and the Great Tiger, they rose up, using sympathizers who claimed that the war for freedom will simply be that, freedom for the faunus," the old seemed somber and sad. Even as told the boy the reasoning, his words sounded not of his own but of a books. As if it was already written in history, set in stone. "Me and your father fought bravely but they had their claws in every kingdom, using their charm and sympathy to break the hearts of the powerful men to support their case."

"You and dad? B-but that’s not what I-," Jaune questioned, the man looked much older than dad used to. His eyes wrinkled, his cheeks sunken, gray hair that had started to turn a sickly white began to fade into his skull. The mane that used to be so dark brown but had beautiful hints of blonde running through it, was dying his hair being wither and worn as much as he was.

The old man chuckled in a whisper. "Yes we were the same age, but I guess I beat him huh…" he looked up at the ocean. The breeze pushing his mangled mane back. The old man had no care for what he looked like anymore. The beard that had grown long helped him sleep in the cold, but also wore him out as the sun beat his frail body. His eyes watered. He was still there. "He was an amazing man, even for an Arc, he protected me as we were enslaved, the only way I can repay my friend is by serving you, sir, till my last breath. Which cumbersomely, might be soon." 

Jaune looked at the ocean he wanted to escape by. "Sir Arc."

Jaune looked up, his eyes writhing in pain, in sorrow. "Don't miss me, when I'm gone, what your father told you will be enough to get you a better position."

"But Krim, I-"

"I don't have anything to teach you, but I'll protect you with my life," the old man Krim, smiled, his eyes crinkling as the wrinkles of stress showed his time, his body aging quickly because the stress that was cursed upon him. 

Jaune looked away, the man spoke of his own death as if it were an event that was and must happen. "I-I'll repay you."

Krim smiled. "I'm honored but lord, I may be enslaved and shackled to serve that oaf of a ram, but if I ever get the chance my sword shall fall to you."

Krim was a man that only some could dream of. Fighting in the war alongside an Arc, and serving his son afterwards, not because he owed him, or because he must. The reason lies in the fact that his friend's son needed him. Jaune looked at the sand that his bruised feet sank into. "Just teach me one thing, how do you not feel pain?"

Old man Krim, was taken aback slightly. His expression showed surprise but also a hint of curiosity. "Why would you need that, sir?"

"I believe that when you show no care for pain or change in attitude it shows strength," Krim smiled at the response his long beard pulled up slightly with that grin. 

"An excellen-"

"Not just strength for yourself, but against the master, he intends to hurt you, but you don't show him that he's affected you… it's a disrespect that only a slave can get away with," Krim's smile slowly fell as he looked at the young boy. 

He was too smart, like his grandfather, and he wants to fight, his heart is already set, his mind moves soon he'll act. Krim will teach him the art of patience, the art of self endurance. Krim stopped rubbing the boys back. His old thin hands patted the boy's head. For Jaune it felt like cold twigs, but the feel of comfort that those bony hands brought were only those of who were cared for. “You may be right, lord, you might be.”

Krim knew his day was close. It saddens to know that the young Arc would be alone. A pain akin to what a father would feel, but he did not have the honor of bearing the Arc name. The man laid down on the cool sand. His wounds that burned had a pleasant cooling on the sand. Able to stop the throbbing for only moments. Jaune laid next to the thin man. 

“Im fourteen this year...you asked earlier…”

“Hm, yes I have Sir Arc, thank you for answering my request.”

They laid in silence as both needed the time to rest. It was already becoming late, the burning dictator in the sky having hidden from it's cool equal. Jaune closed his eyes, seeing the beautiful moon that splintered in the sky, before falling asleep.

_______________

"Get to fuckin work! You worms!" The whip cracked as harshly as the sun beamed onto the slaves. The boulders, made into bricks, now it was Jaune's shift to make the cement with his group of men or some called slaves. It had already been a week or more since he last picked the boulders. They cycled through the men, changing jobs every few days, that's how Jaune kept track of time, first week- splitting boulders, second week- cement making, third week- bricklaying, fourth- boulder transport. Everyday work, not a single day of rest. Though, he preferred the second week to all the others, as he would either have to stomp on the cement mixture with the group of men, or carry water back and forth for miles. 

Krim was assigned to water carry. Jaune much rather prefer if he would not do the hard tasks that others did. He may have been the same age as the little Arc's late father, but the turmoil he suffered had caused him to become frail. As well as the limited rations. 

"Keep working! I'll have you all dead if you don't move it!!" The lizard man delighted from his whip cracking the air. Making an echo in the dry environment. Nothing to suppress the scream of the leather. Jaune stomped as dirty water was thrown into the large pit that was dug to create cement, a cheaper alternative than the cement that was premade and could be ordered from Vale. 

The whip cracked again but Jaune was in his thoughts. Vale was what he was, Jaune Arc of Vale, or what he used to be. As he stomped he'd look out at the freight ships that would come from the horizon and dock. They were far from the docks, but at a high enough elevation where Jaune could see the hundreds of palates on the large boat. He would count them. He knew which ship the master owned by the name inscribed on the side, with a red paint. 

V.V.Enterprise, it was a company that handled cargo Jaune could summarize. Before his father passed, he had told him much of politics, and the imaginary numbers that the masters would play with. Teaching him what those numbers meant and how to solve them. His father was far wiser than Jaune hoped to be, he was the hope to his young heart. Jaune would look up to his old man, his heart never wavered, always saying that Jaune had a life beyond the horizon beyond enslavement. 

The man cracked a whip at Jaune, the cut felt like a blistering sting as his skin split. Breathing in deep he kept moving, he clenched his fists as hard as he could, it felt like his hands would even split from the force. The lizard man laughed. "Little shit not gonna cower any more?" Jaune tried to pay more attention to something else but the difficult of keeping his mind busy was torture. 

Krim taught him to accept the pain and tell yourself it's temporary. Jaune knew it was temporary but teaching your own brain to recognize that it's not to react. The lizard cackled, as the whip slashed at him again. At this Jaune staggered, his mental strength was not on par with Krim's he had years of experience, the ability to ignore something that could kill you was something dangerous for others and yourself. 

The lizard scoffed as the master walked next to him, his goat horns seeming to taunt Jaune, telling him he's owned by a crown of a goat. However, there was a new man next to the master. He wore a garb around his head and face, only his golden eyes shown through. He wore what looked to be more humble clothing unlike the master Zarraj who wore flashy lavender and gold adorned his horns. 

"Boy, come here," Zarraj called for Jaune, that was the first time he was ever called personal, or anything close to kind. At least he wasn't called the usual "little shit". Jaune ran through the thick mud, up the sand slopes dirty and bruised. As soon as he reached the top to where the masters stood, he dropped to his knees. The fat one looked down at him, putting his dirty boot on the boy's head. "Ah a foot stool, good Lord Navverm, what do you see when you look into these slave dogs. I built half a town in a half the time the others have." He paused.

The man named Navverm looked upon the slaves, a displeasure was seen in his eyes. Jaune felt something. "You sure this is the best you can do? The freighting costs a hefty bit."

"Ah don't worry it's the best price, my friend who owns V.V.Enterprise has promised me his word that he has given a discount," Zarraj promised as the higher Lord felt off. His words hid a meaning. If there was a discount why did it cost so much. 

Jaune struggled to keep his head from moving. The master did not enjoy a moving foot stool. He pressed harder. Jaunes head couldn't handle the weight as his head ducked, the big man's foot hit the sand under Jaune. A red furry covered his face. "You little shit how far you give way when I'm resting. You worthless slave can't even work properly as a footstool."

Jaune felt his gut scrunch and the force of a foot enter it. His small body flew in the air, over the edge, and, slamming straight into the pit of mud. Zarraj pointed at the boy. "Make sure his blood binds the bricks themselves!"

At this the lizard man was quite tired as the day neared its end, began to whip. The cracking, repeated over and over, as the leather split his skin open, his stomach and back, Jaune grunted as he tried to stand up to avoid the leather carving his stomach. His feet wobbled. 

"Arc!" Krim had just arrived from the over three mile run to the water. He sprinted to the pit. He stood there dumbfounded, he'd be killed if he said anything. The master noticed the concern for the smaller slave. "Arc no.."

Suddenly at the mention of Arc, the high Lord Navverm turned his attention to the old man Krim. His golden eyes tracing his face. Zarraj turned his attention to him too. Pointing once more at the slave, this time Krim. "Throw that water on the heathen human."

Krim staggered looking at Jaune being whipped, his wounds bleeding more and more each lashing. The boy's head rose slowly whaling deeply as he gave Krim a smile and nod. Tears welled up in his eyes, his wrinkled skin preventing them from dropping. "Now slave!" 

Krim closed his eyes, physically he was strong but for his true master. He was beyond weak. The bucket in his hands swung and the splash of salt water hit Jaune's back. A writhing scream escaped his mouth, he felt down into the mud as he began to toss and turn. His back steaming as if a hot iron was pressed into his skin. 

Krim was horrified at what he committed a sin, it must be. An absolute curse that would haunt him. Zarraj seemed proud. Navverm didn't move nor speak. Staring at the old man still, trying to piece together why he called the boy Arc as well as who the man himself was. "Whip both of these two, make them an example, hesitance for a command will bring death to you if you don't listen. Weakness and instability is to be bred out of your disgusting race, hear me slaves!" He yelled, the echoes of the dunes making all the slaves stop, they were all men, crushed under the heel of a superior. Their souls now of cattle, to listen and obey. Could they even be considered human anymore. 

The guards unleashed their whips ready to strike the young and old. Before Navverm's hand raised, the breath of the guards themselves seemed to seize, quiet, like no other came over the entire construction site. The cloaked man put his hand down and spoke plainly. "To be frank, I do find this torture a great disservice to myself. I did not come here to see your display of authority, nor the spilling of blood of the heathen weak. If I wanted to see blood I would have traveled to Atlas where the coliseum for that bloodsport was built."

The man's words had power like no other, Jaune's pain stopped when the man spoke. Too afraid to even whimper like an animal. The goat master had even worse fears, his eyes shaken. Jaune's young curiosity peaked, why was he afraid if he was the master? He wouldn't be punished for showing authority, there is a different reason for that fear. It wasn't the same fear as slaves had, the fear of the innocent, but the fear of the guilty that had shown through his violet black eyes. 

Navverm nodded as he finished his speech, bending over to Zarraj to speak of other matters. The large master listened intently as his beast ears absorbed the information. His eyes widening and shortening at every word. Matching his heart beat no doubt. Jaune looked before hearing the crack of a whip one more, springing up and getting to work. Making the mixture. 

The masters talked in private negotiating. All the while Jaune felt daggers in his back, not the lashes but from the Masters. Jaune wondered if he might also beat Krim to his grave. A thought that sickened him to no end. Jaune cursed himself for even thinking that. How could he leave his faithful unofficial servant. The one who swore his loyalty for his father's sake. The heartbreak that his death would cause the old man. 

The whip cracked in the air four times straight. The sign of the works over. The sun is already caressing the horizon. Their chains were locked together once more. The line towards the beach was long, hundreds of men bound together, little room or comfort available to them. Krim walked silently behind Jaune. His shame hanging low on his face. However the young boy was in his own thoughts. What the masters are talking about and what to do if his fate was sealed. 

They reached their very comfortable sleeping quarters, heh they'd wish for comfort of some kind, the sand stabbing their feet and moving uncomfortably underneath them, a curse for being human. Laying down Krim and Jaune looked at the dark violet sky that was brushed with the paints of the yellow tyrant. Jaune seemed pleased for some reason, Krim inquired. "Sir Arc, what's with the smile?"

Jaune laid there for a few seconds, silence was bliss, other than the rattling chains. His hands began to crawl up to the sky, to touch the crimson paint. He felt his back ache, thankfully the desert heat burns wounds shut, for his mind finally understood the word temporary. "I-I felt and saw fear in Master." At this not only Krim seemed silent, the whole rattles of the men around seemed to stop. To say such things with no proof would get your head to roll into the ground or worse torture, or the worst for a man castration. 

"Master please not-"

"It was not of me, but the man beside him, he fears him, not because of what he didn't do, but of what he has," Jaune smirked slightly, as if all his years as a slave had made him keen to the innocent and guilty, the difference of how their knees twitch or eyes dart around, how they speed up their breathing or how beads of sweat roll down. 

"Sir Arc, if one of the guards were to hear," Krim, concerned for his master's life, pulled himself up to look at the boy. 

"I do not fear that which I have not done, I must follow master, I would never break his word, for it is law they say," Jaune spoke as if he were a distant specter, simply talking through the boy. Krim almost began to cry. 

"Please Master, I've taught you a grave talent of mine, don't use it lightly, it's not to be used in conversion or happenstance," Krim pleaded, Jaune slowly coming back to reality he regretted instantly the words he said. The others heard if they would even be given a slight question he would be doomed. His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, everything felt hot. As he rolled over onto his side he stared at the dunes that covered the horizon. 

Never once did he speak against the masters he used to serve. His stomach knotted and turned as his guilty conscience exposed himself to his own faults. The pit of regret that a boy feels when he knows a punishment is coming, just makes him want to plead and pray for mercy, but mercy was not for the likes of him. Not for a slave.

If Jaune knew where he was or how to free his chains, like any sane man he'd try to escape his fate. Krim tapped the boy on his right shoulder, the one that wasn't digging into the sand as he laid on his side. “Sir, I'll beg our brothers that lay with us in this sand to not speak of what you have said, I will plead for their word to promise your safety in confidentiality.” 

Jaune quivered, his lip shook as if it were trying to escape. He shook slightly as he knew when the sun rose once more he would not be spared. That was his consequence for speaking as a man not a slave. His mouth, he wished he could cut it out. 

The next morning came with a crack of the whip, Jaune’s eyes sunken and his mouth drier than ever. He was immediately put to work, as was everyone else. The sand burned their feet, the mud hid stones that broke skin when stomped, the bricks fell onto feet and arms, crushing their appendages. Jaune’s eyes followed this agony in more detail than before, he looked at any slave that got near the master, his heart beating fast as anxiety made him think irrationally. Someone is going to talk, they have to, I’m dead, every man who stepped close to him sent a shiver down his spine, in fear like a rabbit hunted and caught by a snake. Jaune had no power; he could not influence nor help himself. He was the lowest slave as he was the least useful.  
Jaune’s stomach felt empty, and hollow. It was a knot once more, thankfully. The smell of stale bread and gruel filled his nostrils. It didn’t smell pleasant nor appetizing but it was the only food he would be given. They stopped working at noon, the sun beat down too hard to stand, and slaves may be slaves but the only way they lived was if they didn’t get heat stroke in mid day, that’s the only way their value could be proved. As Jaune ate, his eyes darted from man to man in chains. Laying upon a sole female who came to slave to slave as they ate. 

“Ah the healer coming finally?” Krim scoffed slightly. “I believe she’s a week later than needed.”

Jaune nodded as he eyed her, she wore a long garb that covered her whole body, even her face was hidden. The only way these men knew that she was female was the ever so slight curves of her, that even through the garbs could be noticed. She went from man to man healing as best she could. Her aura was a light blue that reminded Jaune of the sky, as if she'd blend in as a cloud.

She made her towards Jaune, before she even took a step towards him he had turned around ready for her to place her hand on him and heal him. He waited as he used his right hand to cup the gruel and chewed harshly on the stale bread. Her hand gently placed on the boy's back, it was small, much smaller than the others. Her fingertips gently ran along the lines that formed in his back. Made of swollen and bloodied scars. The fresh wounds sent shivers down her spine, it was a caring hand. 

“More than usual?”

Jaune sat quietly as he chewed. Swallowing his food and pride he answered, “...Yes, they have been making examples out of us.” Jaune motioned to the thin old man sitting next to him. The man nodded slowly.

“That…,” she paused, trying to find the words she wanted to say, not wanting to give hope to a slave. “Tragic…”

Jaune nodded as he felt his wounds closing slowly. She was a Faunes, he knew as they were the only ones permitted to have their aura and semblance unlocked. She hadn't seen him since he came but this was the first time they talked other than her occasional gasps at his wounds. 

She moved on without another to Krim and then the next. They had finished their small bowls and bread was the only food they got any day. Soon the chains rattled once more. Men began to stand as the guards approached. The master with them. He never was with them. Jaune was confused for a few seconds before the realization came crashing over him. The master made his pace towards Jaune. The guards stopped in front of the young boy. “Unchain the slave shit.”

The faunes men followed his orders as they opened the lock on his chains. The master grabbed the chains that held his hands together and began to pull. Jaune had no choice but to follow as he was dragged up the dunes and towards a tent. 

“Little shit, embarrassing me in front of the Lord Navverm,” the man jerked the chain hard causing Jaune to stumble. Beads of sweat fell down Jaune’s face, his heart raced as if he was running. Fear overtook him as what he dreaded most was spoken to him. “I’ll make sure you remember this time, fuckin Arc of horse shit.”

Pulled into the tent that the master slept in Jaune fell to his fear. He shivered as fear consumed him. He didn't even change his gaze staring at the floor covered with carpets. The master took out a belt from a stand next to his bed. Then the fat oaf sat down. Jaune's skin crawled. It was never good when he was alone with the goat man. 

"Little shit, what do you know? Huh slave? You understand language now?" The man yelled as he hit Jaune's face with the belt. A bruise immediately began to form. The man stood up with pure anger. The door was still opened, as his grunts could be heard, even if it were a tent, there was a thick blanket with wood on the bottom to weigh it down, which acted as a door. Jaune's hand raised to defend himself from the whip. 

"How dare you heathen human raise a hand at me!!!" He cracked down the belt, the metal definitely cracked the little boys forearm bone. Jaune groaned. 

'I'm not here, not here, think, of-'

The belt hit him again, his groans softened. "You think I'm scared of the Lord! You disgusting bug!" The man kicked Jaune into the one table in the room, curling up on his side to protect himself instinctively. a candle that sat on it tipping over and the hot wax hitting Jaune's left side right under his rib. A soft groan came out of his lips. 

The man smiled with cruelty but his anger burned. "You think of me as weak! You weak shit! You are worse than ants or the sand," the man cackled slightly as he grabbed the boy by his hair pulling Jaune off the ground. "You think being called Arc is something! You are nothing, not an Arc, an Arc wouldn't be forced to be working in the middle of a desert," the man threw the boy across the room.

'If only I didn't have these on, I'd run, so fast and far...but Krim,' Jaune thought as he felt his back hit the frame of the bed. Trying his hardest to distract himself. He groaned as his back felt nearly broken. Thankfully the throbbing no longer there from the lashings. 

"The Arc family is dead, all it's men are dead and all its girls are cattle," the man whipped the boy with the belt. His anger and thirst for blood not being quenched, partially due to his Faunes traits. Jaune curled up once more. He was an Arc, he had to be.

"You being an Arc!" He hit the boy once more, grabbing him by his neck. "Is a fantasy, any Arc would be bred to serve the High classes being a little fuck toy, not be building shitty houses," the man slammed Jaune once more against the floor.

Jaune let out a whimper. The man's cruel anger dissipated and a lustful grin. He threw the belt onto his bed, it was covered with expensive blankets. Then the man began to undress his garb, pulling out his belt. His expensive garb splitting open as he reached for Jaune. "I'll make you remember what kinda lowly shit you human scum are," he licked the boys face as he grabbed Jaune's shoulder. 

'I am not her, not here, not here,' Jaune pleaded to himself as the man forced himself onto him. Tears began to form as the man's hands moved around the boy, his horns hitting Jaune sometimes. 'Please help me Krim,' the boy pleaded a last time, as the large man got up and closed the door. 

"Little shitty Arc, a fantasy, hehe, my kind of fantasy," The door closed as the other slaves worked, none but Krim knew his fate. Jaune couldn't help but let tears roll down his face, he was powerless.


	2. The Desert King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus, but please enjoy

The sun beat no more, it's mellow orange sat calmly on the horizon. The orange painting the blue sky a deep red and purple. Clouds softly rolled along the blue and red sea of the sky, the ocean being it's second brother, being much darker blue with white mist and breeze made up of small waves crashing together. The ocean drowning out the birds that flew above, the boats that decided to make noise, their wooden and metal make up a marvel of engineering. These freighting boat's were not full metal beasts nor full wooden constructions. Yet they carried tons of metal and wood, timber and ore, all for construction or the other trades around that desert area. 

Jaune sat once more on top of the sand dunes, changed to the cold metal that binds him to the others. His eyes swollen red, but his blue sapphire iris burned bright, the red and purple sky reflecting in them, the orange hue that made warmth in the sky, burned like a fire within his eyes. Turning and changing in the blue ocean within him, he did not see the softness of the sun, the sun that burned their backs during the day, turned into a soft orange in the sky, a beauty most loved to look at. However, Jaune only saw the burning flames from the morning, the ones that pained his feet and burned his hands. The flames burning in his eyes, his heart aflame only his eyes reflecting the truth. 

Jaune simply starred, well that's what it looked like for Krim, the old man's heart cried out, beating fast and erratically. The boy, his real master, his lord, the heir of Arc, to know that his honor had been sullied once more brought him to tears to his old wrinkled eyes that held time and pain, only let out one thing, sorrow filled tears that burnt the slight cuts on his face. 

'Lord Arc, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry,' he cried out inside. As he grasped his chest and let his wrinkled eyes let his tears free. The already wrinkled bags under his eyes couldn't hold anything back. He simply rolled in the sand, turning over away from the red horizon. Towards the dark that came with the broken glass moon. Towards the endless dunes of the desert that only was ever interrupted by the town that was built, on the backs of these lowly slaves. 'I am sorry, Lord.'

Jaune just kept looking at that sky, the sun beginning to hide itself behind the curtains of the far horizon. The clouds that softly loomed above the ever so bright and red sky not began to darken to purple paste that was almost invisible in the darkened sky. The slight faint hues of purple that once were a comforting orange took over that sky and clouds. Jaune kept looking at that sky and horizon, as if it comforted his inner turmoil. To see the bright fire hide from the broken moon, the mighty sun that burned feet and backs would hide from the silver broken disk that brought darkness with it. 

"It was my fault wasn't it," Jaune said softly, his eyes unmoving, no longer burning with a fire amber that the sky had shown him. Instead the sapphire glowed and amethyst purple, a violet mist filled his eyes. A dark dread that screamed for someone to look into them. A guilt ate his own stomach, if he hadn't opened his mouth it wouldn't happen right? The misty eyes that seemed dark and brooding, gloomy and mysterious hid the boy's thoughts. "My fault."

Krim turned over immediately, his chains rattling reminding his old self of where he stood. "No arc, it's not," Krim grabbed the boy's arm, causing him to jolt up. Flinching so badly that he shivered and he recoiled. His arm pulled away from the man, his eyes shook with fear, but never left the horizon. "I-Im I'm sorry lord," Krim felt shame and guilt, as if he caused harm to the boy without even noticing, shame, the words that filled his mind. He shamed his lord, he was at fault, he couldn't protect him as he promised to the boy's father. 

Jaune fell silent, his lips quivered, sweat falling down his brow. His gaze dropping from the horizon that so filled his heart. His glassy eyes no longer held the misty look of the moon light ocean. "It's not your fault…I- I shouldn't have said those things," Jaune looked across the desert beach, the little life that grew, blowing in the wind. The wind traveled up the slopes of the dunes, brushing through the boys hair, pulling the golden locks up. His eyes darting back and forth the beach crashing with a calming yet powerful noise. Krim sat up, his chains rattling, a gust of wind from the ocean pushed his hair and beard back, bits of sand flying into his messy trap of hair. 

"Sir, if you had or had not said those words, it wouldn't have changed, he did this," Krim paused looking up at the clouds that could only be seen thanks to the white glow of the moon. The stars that brightly shone behind the misty clouds, were like dreams, seeing them only once before they vanished into a forgotten thought. "He did this before, no reason then, no reason now sir," Krim reminded the boy, hating the thought of remembering these events happening over and over again. All of these incidents happening prior to this one, why couldn't he stop any of them?

Jaune pulled in his knees to his chest. Buried his face into his arms as he folded one arm over the other. His cheeks gently squished by them. Jaune did not want to sleep, keeping his eyes open as irrational fear and guilt, came over him. His mind screamed at him that he was the cause, the reason for the pain and humiliation he had just endured. He was the reason why everyone was whipped because he wasn’t a good boy. Jaune Arc was that even his name or was he lied to by his father. It couldn't be a lie. He was taught the native language and Vale’s native tongue, not to mention math and statistics. He had to be an Arc, then again why was he in some desert being whipped like cattle and not as the Master put it. Why was he here his mind scratched and clawed for the answer to that question. 

Krim looked at the boy, he couldn’t even touch the boy nor comfort him. His physical traits were what made Jaune scared, being even close to the same as the master, an older man, was what Jaune’s mind feared the most as of right now, or that was what Krim believed. The boy had just come back from his last mental low, this action or even assault that the master commited onto the boy, wasn’t the first. Each time Krim would get more angry and angry, but his helplessness crippled what he could do. The boy’s mental strength was strong but not many can go through the same horrifying event over and over without their mind collapsing. Jaune was special, Krim knew this as a son of Arc, he had to be. Krim himself was already long broken, even so broken that he’d hurt the one he promised to protect. To not defend the heir, so broken that in the morning he won’t even speak up to the Master nor address the crime that was committed. 

To Krim, Jaune had to have the strongest mental fortitude that he had seen, even rivaling the boy's father. Jaune sighed as he moved his gaze so that he could once more look at the horizon he loved, the moon illuminating it softly, to the point where only the few waves were visible. Jaune remembered back when he was stuck on a ship and sent to this desert, those small waves grew in size, doubled, tripled till they had the force to throw large ships out of course or even sink them. Jaune enjoyed that trip, no matter the amount of motion sickness everyone got, he enjoyed being on a ship. He was chained to it of course, that small bit of freedom, from land and all its rules, it was true freedom for the boy. He wished he could reach each. 

Jaune looked up and let go of his knees. His eyes dazzled with the stars in the sky. If only he could reach up and grab them. In that moment a memory that Jaune had almost forgotten had come back. Once his father had told him, when you see a shooting star, if you wish upon it, it'll come true. It was a silly thought that brought Jaune back some semblance of normalcy. He smiled lightly, though it faded quickly. He was still in pain, it hurt thinking of it, remembering it, the only way he could ever redeem himself or not feel this cursed memory is if he killed the man. However, Jaune was weak, a slave, he could do nothing and he would only be nothing. 

Jaune closed his eyes for the last time that night. He hated the darkness but it brought with it a new sense of freedom. A freedom from everything. 

The whip cracked the air, slicing it with a swift snap. Jaune was back to work as usual. His eyes traced the ground, the sand, the chains. He didn’t want to look up, every face scared him, reminding him of the master. He would shiver whenever someone got close, pain and fear filled him when the crack went through the wind, whenever the chains shook beside him. His day went on, whipping and scolding ever so prevalent. To others nothing changed, Jaune still being whipped for not working as fast as he was told. His soul ached at the words being yelled at him.

The most terrifying moment was when he was forced to look up. He heard the masters voice call him. “Little shit, Arc fuck get over here,” he smiled as he saw Jaune shiver. His hand motioned for the guard to whip the boy. The lash came down fast against his back, ripping his skin and sending him into a panic. He dropped his brick that he carried and ran towards the voice up the dune. As he neared he saw two sets of feet from his point of view. Still looking down at the ground. He noticed the difference in wealth, he had no shoes, Zarraj, the master had sandals, and Navverm had decorated sandals with a silk cloth wrapping his feet, preventing sand from touching his feet.

“This is the slave you’ve been asking for, Lord,” Zarraj said as he gestured to the boy, whose gaze did not change. Navverm, walked over to the boy and held his chin, Jaune immediately shivered. Navverm immediately let go of the boy. Zarraj smiled at the mess he made of the Arc.

“Why does he shiver like that,” Navverm grabbed the boy's chin again. Pushing him up so that their eyes met. The man’s eyes were kind and soft, Jaune felt that he was different and there was no hatred when he looked at the boy. No resentment, it almost felt hollow but there was something more like a hope, or a want to be impressed. But Jaune knew he was the same as the rest, he had to be, no one ever was really different. 

Navverm put the boy's chin down. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Jaune's blonde matted hair. Grabbing it and examining the boy's ears, making sure there were any markings. Turning away from the boy he walked passed Zarraj. His gaze fixed on the desert horizon. His arms behind his back he breathed deeply. Zarraj looked at Jaune, as if he were a bug that had flown into Navverm's face and brought dishonor. "The boy's dirty, he's sick in the head," Zarraj said to the Lord as he turned to him. His hands fidgeting, rubbing together. Navverm did not look at the man, simply looking away.

"Why is he sick? Did I not give you my healer, to fix the sick and mend the broken?" His voice was stern and cool, as if a wind from a mountain had rolled it's way through the hot desert, and blown through the work camp. Zarraj could feel this cold disparity, as if the soft-spoken man now began to speak with death on his tongue, a calm anger. Zarraj's nervousness became fear.

"I-I did, he's mentally, unwell, he believed himself to be an Arc," Zarraj explained glaring at Jaune for a second. The fat man chuckled. "He's a bit delusional, I wouldn't listen to what he says," Zarraj nervously spoke as the Lord examined the boy. Navverm grabbed the boy's neck as if to turn him, lifting up his shirt slightly noticing the several scars deep in Jaune's flesh. Looking over with his eye and the bending down briefly. His nose picked something up, he sniffed the air. His eyes almost changed from his calm anger to a fury, a deep hatred. 

Navverm raised his hands and without a word the near by guards, left. Zarraj watched the faunus men walk away. Looking back at Navverm, he was met with a heavy palm right across his broad cheek. The strength behind it was nothing that Jaune had seen before, standing awestruck as his mind tried to make sense of it. Navverm had just sent the fat goat to the ground with a single slap. Bouncing on the sand, the fat man looked up at the robed Lord. "W-what why?"

Navverm bent down and grabbed Zarraj's collar. "You are not only a faggot, but you even damaged my property," he said furiously, his hand clenching into a fist, ready to land into the fat goat's face once more. Navverm let down his fist into the fat man. Jaune stood not sure what to do. 

"B-but, he's just a slave, I-I-"

"My slave, same as you should be, if not for these laws you'd be serving me the same as all these others," Navverm paused pulling up the fat man, his strength almost inhuman. "You serve me, don't forget that, just because I let you command these dogs, doesn't change the fact that I am your Lord."

"Im sorry, my Lord please forgive me, I have sin-"

"It's not a question of forgiveness, you have betrayed me and your people, for one, harming my property needlessly, and two the sin of faggotry without an heir, no less a child," Navverm dropped the man's collar. Standing up he looked down at the man who laid in the sand. "You damage my things again, with your immoral behavior, and I shall show you why the laws are your best defense as of now," he spat down at the beaten goat. Jaune never heard a goat groan or whimper but the slight noises that escaped the masters lips are what would be the closest thing to them. 

“P-Please forgive me, my lord, I fell into temptation,” Zarraj pleaded, on his knees he begged for mercy and kindness. Navverm looked down at him and then at Jaune. His eyes cold daggers, Jaune could have sworn he used a semblance to steal the air out of his lungs, but no it was primal fear. Fear of a predator that could consume and kill him any minute. Jaune’s frail torn hands gripped the coarse sand underneath him. Navverm’s eyes once again stared into Jaune’s. 

“I will not give forgiveness for this disgusting act,” Navverm turned away from the two of them. Looking towards the tent that Jaune had been pulled into the night before. Jaune shook slightly, that tent brought nothing but damning memories of immorality. Zarraj’s dry mouth quivered to speak.

“Please lord, let me make a sacrifice to the gods, for their forgiveness at the least,” Navverm quickly turned to stare down at Zarraj. The goat quaked, hiding his eyes from the man. 

Navverm’s throat growled before he looked back at Jaune. “I do not believe that your management of my property has been as promised, I’ll send my daughter to oversee you,” he paused, walking to Jaune, who picked him up from the ground. Looking at the boy's scars he sighed, disappointment took over his anger. “I’ll send my healer as well, clearly you have lost your mind with the treatment of my property, she’ll stay for a day before leaving,” turning to Zarraj, looking down at him, he spoke once more. “I hope that the cost of these new slaves does not rise again, I’m running a business not some torture circus, put them to work, don’t kill them.”

Zarraj nodded, his head still in the sand. “As you command my lord,” he managed to whimper out of his croaked throat. His head lifting slightly to only give Jaune a death glare. Jaune gulped down, he was not as frightening as the Lord, but his hatred for humans spilled out of every pore he had. 

Navverm began to walk towards his guards that dressed in a beautiful white and blue, that complimented Navverm’s even more dazzling garb that hid his face and body. Navverm stopped before his guards began to escort him. Turning slightly towards Jaune and Zarraj who stood up with a slight quake in his knees, he spoke hope, “Son of Arc, if that is as you say you are, I’ll be back to see you,” those words rang in Jaune’s ears. Was it fear or hope that made his heart throb. The lord left as fast as he came, into the dunes of the desert he disappeared into. 

Jaune was quickly thrown back into the pit to get to work, his heart and mind focusing on those words of hope. Like a light in the darkest room, it slowly began to brighten everything in the darkness, Jaune’s fear faded slowly. Not completely as any sane man would keep some semblance of fear, but he understood one important thing this day. The man he feared, the man who beat and raped, was but a man. Faunus or not he was flesh that could be put to the ground by another. The lord was not only physically a threat, but mentally he was superior. Jaune’s eyes looked up from his shackles and chains, up to the dunes and sand around him. To the sky above him, the same sky he wanted to escape to screamed to him that he was to be freed. Only if the chains on his body would snap he could be freed. 

Krim stood behind the boy. Noticing his masters young gaze looked no longer at the ground below him but to the side and the sky around him. Hope that the old man never thought would come back, light inside him, like a small burning candle, a flame that could be blown out any minute, appeared in his heart. Did his young master find some hope in his darkness? He would not dare ask, but simply observe and try to understand. The boy’s hands moved from his side, he moved with more confidence, Krim’s old age gave him the advantage of being able to read body language, especially of someone who he practically raised. “You’ve grown,” the man sighed with a slight smirk.

Jaune’s mind, he hid himself within. Jaune understood that physically he was not freed, but if only he could be free from everything within. His fear, worries, and pain, same as Krim showed. If he masters his mental freedom, his inner freedom he may be able to change. As his thoughts ran back and forth, as his hands worked without rest, he entered a plain where he was only with his thoughts, the blisters in his hands ached but did not break his focus. Pain shot through him, but did not make him falter. He was but a child however, still wincing and grunting, as the pain was not something his small body accepted easily. He worked with only the stale bread and soup to power his small body. Jaune worked for hours, the homes they built they would never step foot into. Homes that faunus poor and middle class will live in and take for granted. 

Jaune barely crawled back to his spot in the dunes. His hands and legs shook with pain, his eyes glazing over with exhaustion. It would be easier if his body healed naturally instead of the use of aura. Forcing his body to heal rapidly, making his body just as sensitive as it was before. Healing not only the skin but the nerves. He shivered as the hot sand became a cold bed for Jaune. The only comfort he was given was seeing Krim silently smile, his eyes hopeful for Jaune. Then slumber came upon him, soothing his sore body and tormented mind.

~~~~

Navverm cracked his neck as he walked onto his oasis, in the desert his home. A large clay carved and marble decorated temple, that rose up above the sandy dunes. The guards that surrounded his gated stood at attention as the man began to take off his silky hood that covered his face and mouth. The large faunus guards looked away from the man to show respect. Navverm walked on a pathway of marble almost engulfed in lushess grass and flowers that were kept to a clean neat order. Another pair of guards opened the doors to his temple home. Walking in he completely took off his garb, the long silk cover that protected him from the heat. He wore a simple loose brown pants that hung loose but tightened around his ankles by leather straps that went to his ankles. A long scaley green tail poked out from between his clothes. His shirt was also quite loose but his gut slightly pushed the fabric forward. 

"Welcome home, master Navverm," a cheerful brown haired bunny girl ran over. Navverm looked at the young girl with his old eyes, a judgement like a father would give. She wore a simple white dress that sat tightly on her hips, but flowed down her legs freely. Navverm sighed as he did a light karate chop on her head. 

"It's Uncle, you're my niece," he shook his head as the brunette grabbed his hand lightly and rubbed it against her face. His rough scalie  
hands rubbed her smooth soft cheek. "Come on, Vel, let go I have to get back to my office," he pulled his hand away gently.

"But Uncle, you're so tired, your eyes are sunken even more now, and your tails dragging again."

Navverm smiled as he walked by Velvet. "My eyes are always sunken. That's my heritage, and my tail, well… I'm quite saddened by one of my subjects." Navverm stopped walking as his head dipped to look at the floor for a second. Velvet was about to ask but Navverm spoke before she could, forcing her to hold her tongue. "He fell into temptation, a fault in his character," Navverm began to walk away again. He entered a door that was decorated by marble and metal, the dark clay around the room that differed from the rest of his marble and clay mansion. 

Velvet stood alone in the entry hall, she looked around at the garbs on the floor. Picking them up she carried them to a washroom. A strange whiff of air went into her sensitive nose, a different smell that made her hungry. It was not Navverm’s scent but it was the sweat of someone else, someone she’s met before. Which then she began to scrub and wash the clothes to rid them of sand. Humming to herself a small tune to keep her company. Her softs hands moved through the water and soap, making blanket white bubbles. Cleaning was methodical for her, a meditation. Maids could have done it for her, however she enjoyed the bubbles in her hands. 

“Why the hell are you cleaning Dad’s shirt?” a raspy mature woman’s voice sounded behind Velvet. Making her jump at the cound. Turning around quickly to have her prey eyes land on a larger predator faunus. She stood against the marble door frame of the laundry room. She wore a much more masculine outfit, a leather and cotton shirt with no sleeves and short baggy shorts instead of pants. She wore sandals just as Navverm, to not let sand rub her green tinted feet. Velvet sighed as she realized it was just her half sister. 

“Don’t scare me like that Lily,” Velvet turned back to clean the dusty garb. Lily smiled as she walked over to Velvet. She crawled over to her like a predator stalking its prey, slowly she grabbed on to the sitting rabbit’s waist and began to move to her shoulders. Resting her chin on Velvet’s shoulder she began to nibble lightly on Velvet’s long rabbit ears. Her sharp crocodile teeth played with her gently as Velvet squirmed. “Stooooop, Lily, come on,” she finally managed to say as she gasped. Lily grabbing her other ear and rubbing it softly. 

“Not until you stop being a stubborn little hare and come play with me,” Lily backed off her and stood up. Pulling the other girl by her hand. “You’re always cleaning around the house, I’m bored, let's go wrestle! No, let’s fence! Archery! Come on there’s so much to do,” she pulled even harder at Velvet’s hand pulling her off the ground and out the room, not letting velvet even finish washing the garb. As they run through the halls, Lily yells out to one of the many faunus maids to take care of the laundry. 

As they ran outside to the courtyard, where grass bloomed and covered the ground. Lily stopped running, letting go of Velvet. Who dropped to the ground and began to pant. Turning around with a wide sharp smile. Gasping Velvet looked up at Lily. “Why-why so f-fast?” she squeezed out as she looked up at the green tinted crocodile faunus. Crouching down quickly to get to her level. 

“I know you smelled him,” Lily said with excitement.

Velvet flinched and looked up at Lily. “What are you t-talking about?” Lily grabbed her hands and sniffed her. 

“On his shirt, was the smell of a young human!” 

Velvet shrugged. “And what of it-”

“I know you felt it, the urge to just pounce, as if your nature screams to take the young boys advantage, also when's the last time Dad has been near a young human, he must be special,” Lily excitedly shook her hands and blushed slightly as her mind wandered. Velvet looked away trying to cover her flushing cheeks. “Awww getting embarrassed?” 

“Shut up!” Velvet stood up and began to run towards the center of the court yard, there sat a barrel filled with wooden swords. Grabbing a wooden hilt she turned to aim at Lily. “You’re just a croc in heat!” Velvet yelled at her as she lunged with her sword at the crouched croc. Lily instead of jumping away, jumped towards Velvet sweeping her feet. Causing the bunny to fly over her. The croc faunus rushed over to the barrel knocking it over and quickly grabbing two wooden swords. As soon as she stood up, the bunny swung from up above at the croc. Lily quickly caught the blade between hers by crossing them together. 

“Getting a little heated huh?” Lily smiled as she pushed Velvet off of her. Quickly jumping to her feet she stood at attention against Velvet. Circling around each other. Their eye contact didnt break. Lily took the initiative sprinting right towards the rabbit. Her retaliating with a quick slash. Lily however using her superior flexibility rolled mid sprint to the floor keeping her momentum. Grabbing the rabbits waist and throwing her to the floor. As Lily sat on top of her, she smiled. “Calmed down, Velv? I know you got excited by the scen-”

Velvet pushed off with her legs and flipped over one another. Causing her to now sit on top of Lily. “Now croc mouth, shut up, it just reminded me of someone thats all.”

Lily smiled, grabbing Velvet's shoulders as she pulled herself into a sitting position. “So you admit to smelling it!” Velvet turned bright red before jumping to her feet and stomping away from Lily. “~I was right~” Lily sang with her harsh voice. The bunny turned around sharply to lunge at the croc. They fought till the sun began to set omn the horizon. Their fight only to be interrupted by the dinner bell. The two looked at each other before giving up on their quarrel. Both hungry and tired from their playful fighting.

Walking into their dinner hall that was marbled and polished by all the maids and servants everyday. They sat down to eat at the large dark wooden dining table. Served an array of food from some meat and vegetables to desserts that would be taken to a liking from any sweet tooth. Navverm sat quietly enjoying eating the large portion of beef leg. His sharp teeth cut into the red meat, ripping off chunks of the flesh. His tongue satisfyingly crossing his teeth as he swallows. 

“I'm going to ask a favor of you tomorrow Velvet,” Navverm said as he finished the bone in his mouth. Making it spotless with not a shred of meat left. Velvet's large rabbit ears perked up and she looked over at the old croc. He no longer wore a headdress and his large garb that covered his body. His scales were much larger and rougher than Lilies as they covered his face. But did not hold back his facial expressions. “I need you to go into the construction site once more and give them your aura blessing. They very much mistreat my property, could you Velvet?”

The rabbit smiled as she calmly ate her food. “Of course Uncle, I’ll get my garbs ready,” Velvet answered softly as she smiled. Lily sighed as she chomped onto her large steak. She playfully pushed a small bowl filled with gravy towards the bunny causing a bit to splash on her. Staining her white dress and some flew onto her ear. “Really Lily!”

“Stop complaining, it's already dirty from outside,” Lily smirked as Velvet pushed it back splashing the croc. “Aww a little mad?”

“You got my ears all sticky, outside and I just got them cleaned," Velvet protested as Lily giggled.

"Fur is such a bother no?" 

Navverm smiled at their playful bickering. Shaking his head slight. "What am I going to do with you two?"


End file.
